The Job of Creation

This is from a few years ago.

When You first flipped the light switch on the blob

to give form to the shapeless void of Earth,

its waters, You sat down to do Your job,

bent over the desk and one day spoke the birth

of its first eve and morning without sun.

How long You labored to speak “firmament”

or tell the land to rise and streams to run—

through rumbling words or singing to invent

trees, sun and moon and stars to rule the hours.

Your time, Your days – what ages for a God

eternal? Did you speed up to use Your powers

to make bird, beast, and man? Did you applaud

more happily, say, “It is very good,”

then throw an office party in the wood?